Everybody loses 


            ‘Trump’s war on Iran makes everybody a loser. Iran, Lebanon, the Golf states like Qatar, Bahrein, Dubai, the Saudis, even Israel is a country at war now,’ Camp said after we toasted the warm spring weather.

            ‘Except there is one winner,’ I said. ‘Russia, thanks to the high price of crude, fertilizer and the lifting of sanctions. Putin is just swimming in petro dollars right now. More cash for his criminal war in Ukraine.’

            ‘And the rest of the world is feeling the pain. Everything from gas at the pump to plastics and even groceries is dependent on hydro carbons. They drive the modern world from food to transportation and manufacturing. We’re all paying the price for Trump’s war of hubris and self-glorification.’

            ‘The un-holy trinity of Trump, Vance and Hegseth has declared that God is sanctioning their war personally. He likes the good guys, Trump said, meaning mostly himself. When he threatens to bomb Iran back to the stone age, he is dragging everybody along and nobody seems to want to stop him. Certainly not Congress or the courts.’

            ‘He threatened to obliterate bridges and power stations, regardless of the thousands of Iranians who congregated around them. A whole civilization will die tonight and never come back. That’s what he posted on his Truth Social network. He has no clue of the ancient Persian civilization and empire he is threatening to obliterate. Ominous and deranged words that could translate into nuclear annihilation.’

            ‘And then the world waited and an hour before his ultimatum ended, he announced a ceasefire and a deal. He did what Trump does. He threatens hell and damnation and then he turns around. But somebody who utters words like those he did cannot be normalized and explained away. Those words were written and will stand forever. The Republicans, the military brass and the world needs to wake up and do something about this lunatic. He is dangerous, he is narcissistic and he is unhinged. If we don’t stop him, we’re complicit in his lunacy.‘

            ‘I agree Camp but what can we do? We can talk and get upset about it but how can anybody stop this guy and his henchmen? We’re sitting on the sidelines up here in peaceful Gibsons. Two old guys griping into their beers.’

 ‘I meet a lot of Americans at the store, not as many as a few years ago mind you but none of the ones I meet have voted for Trump and yet, he is their president. What can they all do? How to stop this madness?’

 ‘How about a general strike? Just stay home from your job, whatever it is, until they remove him. The 25thamendment? Impeachment? Whatever works,’ I said, slapping the table for emphasis.

            ‘You’re talking revolution my friend. Maybe civil war. Don’t forget there are plenty of people who still think this guy is the second coming and will take them all to heaven.’

            ‘Yes, another reason why we need a revolution.’

            ‘That’s thirsty talk. It’s good to see that you still have the fire in your belly.’

            ‘All I have are words and I can at least offer my opinion. Makes me feel like I’m doing something.’

            ‘What’s all the agitation about, fellows?’ Vicky asked while serving up some fresh brewskies. 

            ‘It’s that beast in the White House,’ Camp said. ‘Get’s him upset.’

            Vicky looked at me and shook her head. ‘You shouldn’t be watching the news every two minutes. Take a deep breath. He will pass. When I’m your age, he will be a distant memory.’

            I didn’t know if she tried to make me feel better or was making fun of me. Maybe just putting this moment in time into perspective. I hope there will be a future when all this can be remembered.  

Apocalypse Now?


            I walked into the pub and saw Vicky polishing glasses at the bar. ‘I hear you had the covid,’ I said. ‘Yeah, it wasn’t too bad. A couple of days of headaches and congestion. It scared me though but I soon got over it. Troy, my son, probably brought it home from daycare. He never had any symptoms though. I now have two jabs and one recovery. Should be good for a while.’

            Everything seems so normal here: The pub, the lovely view, the beer. Meanwhile Europe is at war and the death, destruction and lasting impact on the world, the environment and the crippling psychological impact and devastation of Putin’s brutal war are ongoing. Ukraine is suddenly Aleppo or Srebrenica or worse. 

            When Camp walked and sat down, I knew that the war in Ukraine was the elephant in the room. No way we could not talk about that catastrophe. He plunked down his newspaper, I think it was the Globe and Mail, and sighed. ‘It doesn’t look good,’ he said.

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War of Words II


Now that some kind of war on the eastern front seems imminent – according to all the major news outlets half of Russia’s army is parked on Ukraine’s borders – I knew that my friend Camp had some views on this situation. It’s all so unreal, sitting here at our seaside pub in peaceful Gibsons; an oasis of tranquility in a sea of madness it seems. So far away from the Ukraine, Ottawa and Washington and yet so close whenever I turn on the TV or pick up the newspaper. Like it or not, we are part of it all, little tribal ants in a big, complicated colony, revolving around a sun, on the edge of a minor galaxy.

            ‘It’s pretty clear to me,’ Camp said. ‘This is exactly where Putin wants to be.’

            ‘How do you see that?’ I asked.

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War and Peace


The holidays are over, the Christmas trees are tossed aside; some still with a forlorn strand of tinsel tangled up their spent and brown branches. The relatives have left; the empty bottles have been recycled, the Visa bill has arrived. It’s called the January blues but I feel relived and content to get on with the day without the pressure of presents that nobody needs, the overabundance of food and drink, the cards unrequited and the lugubrious outpourings by the politicians and pundits. I’m glad it’s back to normal and was looking forward to my weekly chat with my friend Campbell, or Camp as I’ve always known him.

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